Plan A as Plan B, and the boys and girls confused

Published February 28, 2012 by 51percentawesome

What am I doing? I don’t know what I’m doing. The African guy is sign right? cos if he isn’t, nothing makes any sense. I’m fucked.

I put on a charcoal mudmask. I shave my legs, and my armpits. I even trim my pubic hair. God knows why.

I lay on a towel in my room naked, and roll backball up my spine. Breathe in, breathe out. Half way up my back, my eyes snap open. I don’t have time for this.

I masturbate kneeling for the first time. Head back; New. Visualise, sleep; wake up a few minutes before my alarm.

Skip ahead 3hrs-it’s 35 degrees. At 12:23 I convince a cabby in the RTA parking lot to drop me where I’m going. I give him my six dollars. I am last to arrive, twelve thirty on the dot. I am sweating. I’m carrying my jacket, and a backpack with lunch and snacks.
Fill out the forms, drop the body temperature. Move room, with bags.
This job is emotionally and physically challenging, they say. I need challenging, I think. Move room, with bags.
Stand in front of the group and read aloud ‘Good afternoon ladies and gentleman, and welcome to flight758. My name is Angela and I will be your crew leader today. Please fasten your seatbelts and stay seated until the captain turns off the fasten seatbelts sign…’ Move room, with bags. I pee, my underwear smells sweet.
A man in business class has had one too many and orders a drink. What do you do? I offer water juice or soft drink, I offer food, if he insists I politely and cordially say no. (At no point do I consult my manager).
25 minute wait. Dolly’s traipse downstairs in search of coffee. From a spring water bottle, I sip chia seeds, banana, dates, and rice milk. Dolly #7 doesn’t know what chia seeds are. The coffee shop is closed and they are hungryyyy- My casually offered grapes are declined. My bum is itching through my stockings. Undies on the inside, next time.

This summer is hot, this summer is rainy, this summer violates their expectations. I like it because when I walk home from the bus stop barefeet, there are no bindis; Who does that, says Dolly. Who does that, indeed.

They return and begin to call names. Girl in ordinary green blouse. Thai girl. Two teenagers who wish they were at the beach. Other ordinaries. Please don’t say my name. Please don’t say my name. And Angela. Please follow me.

I change back into my magenta pants, turquoise singlet, beaded see through… shirt. Flats. I breathe again.

She calls them cunts cos the email said there was no onsite parking. A ride’s a ride. I sit on the grass like the hippy I am. Joanna is pro-life and anti-abortion.
Peter singer didn’t take into account potentiality. A foetus will grow into a person but a dolphin will always be a dolphin.
And, what?
What differentiates us from animals?
Animals don’t have an intellectual soul.
Just because they might speak a different language and don’t build buildings?

She fetches and we wait for Angus at Notre Dame University. I like the frangipani trees.
We have the capacity for choice. That’s what differentiates us.
Do we? Do we really? Why are we not bound by the physical laws of cause and effect? Psychology cannot be an empirical science if we have free will. What if thought is just complex cause and effect unfolding?

Humans have the capacity for spontaneous change, he says, whereas animals do not.
Do we? Don’t they?
We are reasonable and rational because we can write.
Perhaps. What does rationality have to do with anything?

If you really want the truth, you need to find it for yourself. You need to put aside your beliefs and read, she says, with her big tiger eyes. You can’t take someone else’s word for it; you need to read it for yourself. Come and spend time exploring with us, she beckons.

The city is smoggy. I search the faces of the people for answers. Can I breathe this air?

In the subway, his hair is long, and hers is short (all the boys are saying they’re girls, and all the girls are saying they’re boys).

I snap awake as the train slowly pulls in. Cram into an elevator, and inhale someone else’s nicotine. The bus stop is deserted. The (gay) man beside me has alligator shoes whose toes don’t touch the ground and a big, round, pregnant belly. Why is it so distended?

An asian girl walks past, armed with shopping bags, perfect hair and eyebrows on the arm of her white boyfriend. She’s smart.

The window I’m leaning on vibrates with the sirens of a fire engine. The second engine turns the other way.
The mountain is half covered in cloud, I slurp my brown goop.
A guy with red shoes walks towards me; my eyes drop and watch his feet. He smiles hello at me, it’s like that, isn’t it? he smiles and I wanly acknowledge.
The mountain is all covered in cloud. The window vibrates with a Landover, or is it the neon lights? Hands searching window: It is the refrigerator. If only all mysteries were this easily solved.
Another fat person, and another asian. She has a dress length cat jumper, patterned stockings and doc martins. They make me want to have sex with her, and I want an outfit like that.

The bus is cold and it is raining outside. Recount the past 24hours, recount the recounting. I miss Spencer’s poetry.
I have ten years’ experience in customer service and that makes me perfect for this. Ten years is long enough serving biscuit crumbs and soft drink. Heels every day, making small talk? Let’s be honest. I don’t want to be a trolley dolly. I want to be Richard Branson.

The rent at my new place is 170, how’m I gonna pay that? Back to Plan A, I suppose. There’s a recipe book waiting for me at home. Maybe I should call it ‘Recipe for Happiness’ and release it when I figure it out. (You may be waiting a while).

The woman in front of me has a rainbow umbrella, like I’ve always wanted. Parked car. ‘Animals are not ours to kill, use and experiment on’. Curse out loud as the rain gets heavier. Fuck. A raindrop lands on my eye, rolls down my cheek. Weeks ago when running: Surrender is being in torrential rain and wanting it to be wetter. I lick the salty drips.

Front door and back door locked. Crawl in the catdoor. And here we are, back as it was. For now.

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